The Heiress' Revenge

Chapter 184: The Hideous Maid

Ariana’s POV

Two years, that’s how long it has been.

That was how long I had been gone.

London was grey, cold, and rainy; the sun rarely came out.

The sky was always covered in clouds.

It matched my mood.

It matched my heart and soul.

I was on my knees in the bathroom.

Scrubbing the floor, the tiles were white marble and expensive. Everything in this house was expensive.

The Anderson Mansion.

One of the wealthiest families in England.

Old money and ancient bloodlines.

I had been working here for two years.

As a maid and servant. Someone who cleaned toilets, washed sheets, and scrubbed floors.

Someone who was invisible.

Someone who didn’t exist and who could hide in plain sight.

I wanted something low-key.

Something that would keep me hidden.

Something that would keep me safe, because if Dante found out I was alive, he would come for me.

He would tear apart the world to find me. He would never stop looking and would never give up.

He would never let me go.

So I hid behind a mask, a new name, and a new life.

I wore a mask when I worked. A slight mask covered my nose and my mouth.

It was made of black and simple cloth. It hid my face.

It hid my identity.

It hid me.

The other maids thought I was ugly.

They thought I was disfigured.

They thought I was hiding scars or burns or something terrible. They whispered behind my back and called me names while they made fun of me.

I didn’t care and let them talk.

Let them whisper.

Let them think what they wanted as long as they didn’t know the truth; it didn’t matter. I could take whatever crap they sent my way.

I finished scrubbing the floor and stood up. My knees were sore my back was aching.

I put the scrub brush in the bucket and picked up the bucket, walking to the door.

The bathroom was huge.

Chandeliers.

Gold fixtures.

Marble sinks.

Mirrors everywhere, and in front of the mirrors, three women.

They were fixing their makeup and hair.

Their expensive dresses.

They were going to a party.

I tried to walk past them quietly.

"Oh, look," one of them said. Her voice was sharp and mocking. "It’s the hideous maid."

I kept walking and didn’t look up or respond. I just kept moving.

The other woman laughed. "I don’t understand why she wears that mask. Is she really that ugly? Is she hiding some terrible deformity?"

The third woman tilted her head.

She looked at me like I was a bug.

Something to be studied and to be mocked. "Maybe she’s disfigured. Maybe she was in a fire."

They laughed all three of them, with their laughter echoing off the marble walls.

I stopped and turned to face them. My mask was in place.

They couldn’t see my face.

They couldn’t see my eyes.

They couldn’t see the tears I was holding back.

"I wear the mask because it’s required," I said with my voice flat and emotionless. "The Anderson family requires all maids to wear masks for hygiene and professionalism."

The first woman rolled her eyes. "Hygiene? Safety? Professionalism? Please. The other maids don’t wear masks. Just you. You’re the only one they make wear that ridiculous thing."

I didn’t answer.

What could I say? She was right. I was the only one who wore a mask. I had requested it. I had begged for it.

I had told the Andersons I had a skin condition, a rare condition. A condition that required me to cover my face.

They believed me, or maybe they didn’t care. Either way, they let me wear the mask, and I have been wearing it ever since.

The second woman stepped closer. She looked at my eyes. M. "You know, I’ve always wondered what you look like under there. Are you hideous? Are you beautiful? Are you someone we would recognize?"

My heart stopped.

I shook my head. "I’m nobody, just a maid. Nothing more, nothing less."

The third woman waved her hand. "Let her go. She’s not worth our time. We have a party to get to."

They turned back to the mirrors. They went back to fixing their makeup.

I walked out of the bathroom with the bucket heavy.

I walked down the hallway past the paintings and the statues.

Past the gold and the marble and the wealth.

I walked to the service stairs.

The stairs that led to the basement.

To the maids’ quarters.

To my tiny, cramped, lonely room.

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it. I slid down to the floor and put my head in my hands.

The tears came, they always came.

Every day.

Every night.

Every moment I was alone.

I missed them.

I missed my family, my children, and Dante. I missed everyone.

I thought about them every day. Every hour and minute. I wondered what they were doing. I wondered if they were happy. I wondered if they had moved on and if they had forgotten me.

I hoped they had.

I hoped they had found peace.

I hoped they had found happiness.

I hoped they had found a way to live without me.

Because I hadn’t, I was still stuck, still grieving and dying inside.

Ares didn’t like that I was working as a maid. He had offered me money and a house. He had begged me to let him take care of me, but I refused.

I needed to blend in.

A maid was invisible.

I didn’t want Dante finding out or Dad. They could.

And at night, when I was alone in my tiny room, I took off my mask, I looked at myself in the small mirror, and saw the woman I used to be before all this.

I missed Dante, his smile, eyes, and touch. I missed the way he said my name and the way he held my hand.

I wondered if he had moved on. I wondered if he had found someone new

I hoped he had. I hoped he was happy.

I hoped he had found love again because he deserved it; he deserved to be happy and to live.

I wiped my tears and stood up, walking to the small sink in the corner of my room. I splashed water on my face.

"You chose this," I whispered. "You made this choice by deciding to leave. You decided to disappear and let them think you were dead, so you have to live with this for the rest of your life."

I put my mask back on and straightened my uniform, walking out of my room back to work because that was my life now.

That was who I was.

And nothing more.